Losing
by tastewithouttalent
Summary: "Teshima hates losing races. For something he does with such frequency, it's a strange thing to dislike as violently as he does." The first time Teshima and Aoyagi lose a race together.


Teshima hates losing races. For something he does with such frequency, it's a strange thing to dislike as violently as he does. The advantage to this loathing is that he never gives anything less than his best in a competition; the downside, of course, is that even his consistent best is _never_ enough to win, and losing over and over and _over_ again isn't enough to inure him to the pain of dashed hopes.

It's worse, the first time he races with Aoyagi. He knows his own efforts aren't enough, and he tried time and again to convince himself that just teaming up with someone else wasn't going to be enough, that they haven't had time yet to totally perfect their technique, that he shouldn't _expect_ to win. And he doesn't expect to, but that can't stop him from _hoping_, especially when he claps a hand against Aoyagi's back and shoves the other boy forward. The other boy takes off faster than Teshima has ever seen him go before, faster than Aoyagi was expecting, and for a moment his heart is in his throat, desperate hope rising in spite of his best efforts to crush it out of him.

Of course that just makes the eventual defeat worse. It's not just the wild surge of his own hope going cold and heavy in his blood as it turns to despair; it's that when he crosses the line Aoyagi's waiting for him, not slumped over his bike but still visibly shaking with exertion, and all Teshima can think is _I've wasted his energy too_. That's when he starts crying, when his wheels have barely crossed the finish line, before he's even unclipped his shoes; he can barely see by the time he actually manages to get off the bike, stumbles off into the verge so he can pretend for a minute that there's not dozens of spectators to see his petulant breakdown, because who _cries_ about losing? But he _is _crying, crying so hard he can't even see straight, and when his bike tips over Teshima goes too, just drops down over his exhausted legs and tips his head down and is pathetically grateful to the length of the hair brushing his shoulder for the minimal cover it grants his face.

The click of the bike coming up behind him gets his attention more than the footsteps, which means it's Aoyagi. Tadokoro's feet would land more heavily than the smaller boy's, and there's no one else who would even be looking for Teshima at this point; he stopped inviting his family to his races months ago. There's a pause in the sound of the bike's movement; then the catch of rubber on pavement goes silent as Aoyagi wheels his bike into the grass. A moment later the other boy's shadow falls over Teshima's face as his teammate lowers himself to the ground with careful post-race deliberation.

Teshima tips his head sideways, enough that his hair shifts so he can see Aoyagi's face. The other boy is looking at him but shows no signs of speaking; his silence would feel judgmental if it were someone else, but Teshima can see the slope of Aoyagi's shoulder speaking to the other boy's relaxation and the soft line of his mouth underlining his calm. Teshima still feels another flood of tears come up his throat, guilt ironically surging higher in response to Aoyagi's lack of frustration than it would if the other boy had been glaring.

"I'm sorry," Teshima manages. Tears are so audible in his voice that he doesn't recognize the sound coming from his throat. "I'm sorry we lost, Aoyagi."

Aoyagi's eyes widen in the moment before Teshima tips his head back down and takes a desperate inhale in an attempt to steady his hiccuping sobs. He still doesn't look angry, or upset, more taken aback than anything else.

There's a pause, quiet broken only by the stuttering inhales Teshima can't fight back.

"Junta."

Aoyagi speaks so rarely that Teshima almost doesn't recognize his voice, wouldn't have at all if it weren't for the obvious impossibility of the speaker being anyone else. The surprise pulls Teshima's head back up and around to stare at the other boy; Aoyagi's still watching him, his eyes steady and fixed on Teshima's.

"It's okay." Teshima's watching Aoyagi's face, sees the other boy swallow and blink like he's bracing himself; then fingers come down to rest lightly between Teshima's shoulders, the weight comforting in itself even before Aoyagi shifts his thumb so the pad of his skin catches at the collar of Teshima's racing jacket and rubs against the other boy's bare skin. The contact shocks through Teshima's blood, catches in his throat so he forgets to breathe, but it stops his tears too, surprise entirely eclipsing his sense of unbearable guilt.

Aoyagi's still watching him. Teshima has no idea what his face is doing but whatever Aoyagi is seeing he doesn't seem to be discomfited. After a moment the other boy smiles, slowly and carefully; his thumb slides as carefully against Teshima's neck. When Teshima whines faintly in response Aoyagi's smile goes barely wider, and when Teshima realizes Aoyagi called him by his first name he starts to smile too. When he drops his head back down it's from exhaustion rather than misery, and when he leans in sideways Aoyagi slides his arm sideways to pull Teshima's shoulder in against him as easily as he spoke, as easily as if he knows exactly what to do. Teshima shuts his eyes, and slows his breathing to match the steady pace of Aoyagi's, and reflects that maybe he _does_, and doesn't question it.


End file.
